Friday, 16 November 2012

U. &. I – Part VI

 

Tic…tic…tic…tic…tic…tic

The Newton Cradle on the frontier of her desk clicks away mercilessly, giving the heavily carpeted room a little chroming noise. Typing her life away on the PC keyboard, she immerses herself in her career, trying hard to drown every single sign of sorrow deep down within her office-woman facade.

“Knock knock…”

Ben pokes his head into her office, extending his short stumpy next trying to see what she is occupied with. Clearly expecting a friendly reply, it took him nearly half a minute to realise that she is intending to continue ignoring him.

“Hey there beauty…come on, drop all that work for a minute. Boss ain’t here right now. Fancy a candle-light dinner later? It’s Thursday!!".

She looks up to him putting on a annoyed expression, while not declining him outright she remain silent.

With endless optimism he said, “Haven’t you heard? Thursday is the new Friday!!”

“As you can see, I can do nothing but to disincline with your courteous offer”, she said.

“Owh…quit being so posh…it’s just me and you…”

She stops typing almost instantly, sits back upright and stares intently onto the cradle ticking away for eternity.

Tic…tic…tic…tic…tic…tic

Mustering a fake smile, she says, “Buzz…off…”. Getting back to her work, she adds, “I’m busy”.

“You know…you’ll never move on with that attitude of yours.Ever.”

“I’m sorry you feel offended. But I…”

“Apology accepted. No harm done”, he interrupts cheerfully.

Ignoring his playful interjection, she continues “…don’t really care.”

For over a minute or so he remains silent. Amused by the sudden solitude, she looks up. He forcefully stops the Cradle in its tracks, before setting it again into motion.

Tic…tic…tic…tic…tic…tic

“If you have nothing else...I need to catch up with my workload,” her tone remains cold and indignant towards him. Her fingers again typing away her life on the keyboard.

“As you wish…though you will regret this…Queen…”, he turns backward and start walking away.

“Pardon?”

Stopping in his stride, he turns around, hesitated a moment, before continuing, “We’ve found him.”

“What?”

He gently place a little stripe on her desk with a half apologizing, half sympathetic expression. Hers mirrored in a perplexed and petrified manner.

“You’ll never find him,” he adds, before breaking into his full stride, exiting her office hastily.

Tic…tic…tic…tic…tic…tic

Holding the stripe in her palms, she etches the address into her mind, half hoping, half wishing, that she will finally see him again, even if it is for one last time.

 

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